Infiltration
by hoarfrosted
Summary: Logan wraps himself in a world of sugar-coated denial, a world James doesn't accept.


**Title:** Infiltration

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/James, background references

**Spoilers:** Set in _Adventure Time with Fionna and Cake_ universe, except it's now _Adventure Time with Jo(anna) and Camille._

**Rating: **G

**Warnings:** Vampires, bubblegum and a general lack of story direction.

**Word Count: **Too much.

**Summary:** Logan wraps himself in a world of sugar-coated denial, a world James doesn't accept.

**Author Note:** Someone keep me away from _Adventure Time_ tags. Everything is Jagan. Influenced.

**Disclaimer: **I don't claim jack-diddly.

* * *

In the entirety of the Candy Kingdom and the reaches far beyond the kingdom walls, there are very few places Prince Logan calls his own.

While technically everything is his, being the sole monarch presiding over the province and certainly the only one of his people able to handle the job, he's not one of _those _monarchs, not like his best friend and the prince of Lumpy Space, Jett, who claims everything and everyone in his reach as his own, property for taxes to be levied upon, pawns to train for nonexistent war, tools for manual labor, no. He's a pretty cool ruler, he thinks, and considers the Candy Kingdom the property of its sugar-filled citizens, whether they contribute to its growth and stability or not. Usually not.

There are a few exceptions to his graciousness within the castle itself. His people can have the halls, the ballroom, the courts, all else that they like, but he needs his exceptions. His room is obviously his own, his private dressing and breathing and resting place during the night. The laboratory in the castle basement, too, is considered his, not that anyone other than him spends countless hours there, perfecting formulas for harmful serums to be eventually locked away, otherwise putting his kingdom in peril, more likely than not. He's quite possibly the only one in all of Aaa smart enough to use the laboratory at any rate.

The final room is only his on occasion, when the royal staff isn't making use of it to prepare meals for the castle's other occupants. The castle's kitchen, for Logan, is pure relaxation and relief in the form of pastel pink kitchen appliances and floral-patterned aprons, when he needs to clear his mind of tedious parliamentary documents or scrambled chemical symbols, because baking is simple, fun and sweet, and something in his manufactured genetics inclines him toward sweet.

This evening, he's temporarily annexed the area for himself to prepare for the homecoming of his friends, the fearless adventuress, Jo, and her malleable feline companion, Camille. Though their trip to the Goblin Kingdom hadn't been lengthy enough to warrant a welcoming party, Logan can't miss out on a chance to prepare a few unreasonably elaborate treats for them to devour, and he's sure they won't mind.

He's just finished sliding the shortcrust pastry of his treat for Camille – a blueberry tart with delicate cinnamon crust – into the oven when he feels the atmosphere in the kitchen shift, temperature dropping a few degrees, shadows moving of their own accord, air thickening with the pungent scent of death, unsavory conditions for Logan's baking setting. He associates the shiver crawling down his back with the presence of two beings only, and since he's yet to hear the piercing cackles and poor puns of the Ice Queen, he doesn't have to guess.

What was previously a content smile drops to a frown when Logan stands, mentally steeling himself, and spins around to meet gazes with a boy hovering overturned in midair, bright grin on his face and soulless eyes peering unblinking into Logan's.

"Bleh."

_James._

Logan's frown deepens. He sidesteps James, careful not to acknowledge his existence, and shuffles up to a nearby island, pulling off his oven mitts. Despite a lack of developed research, Logan hypothesizes that ignoring James' impromptu visits will, eventually, result in James leaving on his own.

"_Yooo!_ Ignoring me's not gonna work, no matter how many times you try it, bubble butt."

Of course.

"Why're you here, James?" Logan asks while he searches drawers for a rubber spatula, not sure which emotion to put into his words. He's asked far too many times to remember.

He feels James slither up behind him, chill seeping through the layers of his shirt. "Well. I'm in this kitchen of yours and there's no one here but you and food. Reckon I'm here to see what you're up to. And the food. And you."

"You can't wait until I'm finished cooking?" Logan murmurs absentmindedly, scraping into a bowl of chocolate frosting to cover his planned treat for Jo – a rich, double layered triple chocolate-chocolate cake with tiny chunks of fudge to be sprinkled on top. Jo loves chocolate. "I'll be able to kick you out properly when you have my full focus."

James moves again, until he's crouching on the opposite side of the island and peering over the first fluffy layer of cake, grin just as bright as before. "Exactly, and no one wants me gone, especially not you, so it's better to visit you unannounced when you're busy. Pretty nice of me, huh?"

"No." Logan applies a generous amount of frosting to the cake, spinning the revolving cake stand until there's a neat, even swirl on top of the layer. He's going to make both dishes perfect, even if he has to deal with James until he finishes. If nothing else, frosting is a good place to put his concentration, not on the vampire intruding in his kitchen.

Over his mobile hands, Logan sees a pout poke from James lips before he floats out of view, huffing noisily. "I don't know why I grace you with my company so often when all you are is rude and mean and busy. And pink. Do _you_ know why, Logan?"

"Because you have a crush on me," Logan answers easily, tapping the outside of the second layer's dish to make sure the glass isn't too warm. No fingers sticking to the outside this time! He picks it up, careful, and quickly overturns the dish over the first layer, letting the second layer plop softly and stick to gooey frosting.

James sputters over his words for a moment, then, "Don't call it that, dude! 'A crush'. Makes it sound so kiddy." He's overhead somewhere, Logan notes. Probably crossing his arms to accompany his pout. "I said _love_ before. Remember? I love you. Love. Not a crush. I don't crush you."

Though he doesn't answer immediately, Logan remembers the awkward confession quite well, weeks ago under the shade of trees on the edge of the Gumdrop Forest, after James had stolen him from Jo, who'd rescued him from the Ice Queen, who'd kidnapped him from the back of Lord Monochromicorn on an average day of no particular significance. He doesn't question it anymore.

"Yes, James, I remember. I also remember telling you there's no way you could love me when you've know me personally for so little a time, so we relegated our feelings to crush status." The frosting functions well as an adhesive, neither of the cake layers moving separate from each other when he spins the stand, piling on more chocolate to even out as he goes.

"I didn't relegate squat!" Curious, Logan glances upward, seeing James glaring down at him from a few feet above. He returns attention to the cake. "I've known you since you were just a little wad of chewed up gum."

"Creepy."

"Besides, I'm over a millennium old! I think I can recognize my own feelings by now. Jerk."

That day weeks ago, James had apparently worried himself to life when he'd snuck into the castle, in _Logan's room, _ and learned of Logan's disappearance, because until then he'd been ignorant of the constant danger in a prince's average day. Not worried over Logan's safety, since he firmly believed death to be an improvement over living, but worried the Ice Queen would actually succeed in winning Logan's heart and making him her king. As if.

Logan lifts the cake to his violet eyes, inspecting it carefully and marking every spot uncovered by frosting, a bit of a chore when the frosting and the cake are nearly the same color. "Be realistic, James"

"Never!"

"You've been aware of my existence since I was a child, but you didn't _know_ me until recently. Our first attempt at friendship wasn't really a success." Logan grimaces at the thought of his earlier years with James and decides cake is a much better thought. Cake is never an intrusion.

James lowers himself, until he's perpendicular to the left side of Logan's head. Logan shuffles a step away, pulling the cake with him. "Yeah, well, things change. I've matured over the years, you know. Since then."

"And it only took you how long?" Logan scoffs.

There's a finger poking into his cheek a second later. "You can be as rude all you won't, bubble butt. It won't stop the love."

He has to set his spatula down briefly before he can swat the hand away. "I wouldn't want to stop the _crush_. You know I crush you, too."

But, as Logan had explained to James already, romance isn't something he can handle at current. Unlike other princes his age, ones with parents alive to aid in their rule, Logan is alone in his study, maintaining the kingdom's permanence and fretting over his people's safety. James, a king though he may be, doesn't understand the weight Logan is under, able to wander around the land of Aaa and through whatever realm he'd spawn from to his heart's content, free.

"You say that, but we're still not dating. Or boyfriends. Or married and honeymooning in the Flame Kingdom's Cavern of Ardor." James is making some exaggerated motion with his hands, Logan can see in his peripheral. "A cave literally filled with fiery love, how could you not wanna be there? With me?"

The thought of having his skin bubble and stick to every surface in the heat of the Flame Kingdom is unpleasant, but Logan doesn't want to beat James down anymore, not when has to give the same answer he does whenever the recurring dispute surfaces.

He waits, making sure every inch of the cake is covered with an even coat of frosting, before he sets aside the spatula and turns to James. "One day," he says, smiling apologetically. One day, when his life is less hectic and his responsibilities less taxing, enough to accept everything James is eager to give. "I promise."

The answer has the same effect as always; James' body droops a little lower and his smile is gone and his eyes, if possible, are even more lifeless, and as always, Logan wishes he could take back his words.

"Bleh. I knew you'd say the same thing," James grumbles with a waggling tongue, tone devoid of any sting. "You're so stingy with everything. Food, happiness, _love_, your color." He sighs, one of those long, drawn out sighs with the lungs he seldom uses. He wants something.

Logan hates to admit it works so easily. "You want some of my color, right?

James rolls over in the air pathetically, giving another obnoxious sigh. "Well, I guess it'd help ease the pain of my broken heart. You know, since you're offering."

"Yeah, James, I'm offering," Logan rolls his eyes, unbuttoning the cuffs of his left sleeve and reeling it up to his shoulder. "Take some from my shoulder so no one notices. _Some_."

The feeling of having his skin punctured and drained is never comfortable, so Logan shuts his eyes when James approaches, the novelty of seeing his skin turn a sickly pale blue having worn off after the first few times.

Except, he doesn't realize James eyes were never on his shoulder. Logan's a genius, so he should've realized leaving his offer too ambiguous would lead to James taking certain liberties, like pressing his lips against Logan's in a dry kiss, pushing them together until they're fitted snugly. A pretty big liberty. James lips are cold like the rest of his body, and Logan feels his face heat and another shiver run over his skin, more pleasant than he wants to admit.

Only after James retreats does Logan open his eyes, seeing the happiness returned to James' face. "Your face is so red. Just the color I wanted," he sings with too much glee, lips curled with perceived ingenuity.

Logan isn't angry at all. He's pretty darn happy in fact, feeling a kick of energy from the unexpected contact and from seeing James happy once more. But he has to keep James in line and his own heart subdued, or else he'll give in too early, too soon, and the kiss _was_ foul play. Treachery in the middle of his precious kitchen.

He punches James square in the forehead with enough force to send the other boy flying back an inch or four. James squawks in surprise, losing focus over his levitation and dropping to the floor. The way he writhes in pain is so forced, hands covering his face and legs kicking and labored breathing, Logan can't help his laughter. Especially when he knows there was never any pain to begin with for a vampire.

While waiting for his knuckles to reform their shape from the impact, Logan pokes James' squirming torso with his boot. "I'll make you red velvet cake with strawberries on top, but only if you promise to eat entire thing, not just the color," he gets out through his laughter, already stooping down to take out another mixture bowl.

The dramatics stop instantly, James pulling his hands away to reveal his glinting canines. "Deal!"

After James finished eating, Logan could kick him out.


End file.
